Looking for a Good Time
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: "The Killing Joke" movie, although largely fantastic, featured a small, controversial, and out of character scene for me (no, not THAT scene!) ;-) This story is mostly a humorous attempt to reconcile it with the Joker I know and love. Enjoy! :-) (Potential spoilers for "The Killing Joke" movie - do see it if you get a chance as it's mostly excellent!)
1. Chapter 1

**Looking for a Good Time**

Trixie Hart had been just three years old when her father had abandoned her and her mother. She had been five years old when she had been taken into the care of the state by social services, after her mother's descent into drug and alcohol addiction. She had been fifteen when she had run away from the orphanage to live on the streets of Gotham City, and now here she was, three years later, barely dressed and shivering, huddled around a flaming barrel trying to keep warm with the rest of her fellow prostitutes.

Trixie had only gone into the business as a last resort – surviving in Gotham was hard, and decent jobs were hard to come by, especially as a girl with no money and no family connections. She didn't make great money as a prostitute, but the few customers she had had so far had paid better than the bar she used to work at.

Of course there were other factors to consider besides money. This kinda work was technically illegal in Gotham, so avoiding the law was a pretty big priority. But she and the other girls had ways of warning each other when the cops were around, and mostly the women looked after each other. It wasn't a great life, but it was all Trixie had ever really expected in this dump of a town.

She was startled out of her thoughts by the voice of Valerie, one of the older prostitutes who had been on the game since before Trixie was born, and who acted as a sort of leader of the group. "Look alive, girls – he's coming!"

"Who?" asked Trixie, straining to see anything through the darkness and rain outside the shelter of the bridge.

"A very good, loyal customer of ours," said Valerie, adjusting her top. "You'll probably recognize him from the papers. He's kinda a celebrity."

Trixie wondered who it could possibly be. Maybe Bruce Wayne? Although a guy of his charm and good looks probably wasn't in need of their services – he could probably have any girl he wanted. She racked her brain to think of any other Gotham celebrities, but she didn't have to wait long to find out.

A figure emerged into the light cast by the flaming barrel, a figure dressed all in purple, carrying a cane and wearing a huge, sinister smile. Trixie's breath caught in her throat as her heart leaped in terror. It was the Joker.

He was being escorted by their pimp, Bill, a fat, unpleasant man who treated his girls very badly. Trixie hated him, and she suspected the feeling was mutual.

"We're so honored you've once again chosen to grace us with your presence, Mr. Joker, sir," Bill was babbling. "We've got some fresh meat for you, just the thing to revitalize a man after a long stretch in prison."

"You'd know more about that than me, Bill," replied the Joker. "Prison's for common street scum like you. They keep me in an asylum."

"Well, can't be too many places in an asylum where a man can release his natural urges," said Bill, with an unpleasant grin. "I'd imagine the shrinks aren't too obliging."

"You'd be surprised," replied Joker, grinning back. "Val, baby, how's tricks?" he asked, approaching the group and reaching for a cigarette, which he lit with the flames coming from the barrel.

"The tricks are all fine, J-man," replied Valerie, smiling at him. "Take your pick of 'em," she said, gesturing to the assembled girls.

"Don't rush me," he said, grinning as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Part of the fun is the anticipation – I should think you of all people would know that."

Trixie felt his bright, green eyes rove slowly around the group, fixating at last on her. Her shivering grew uncontrollable, partly from the cold, and partly from sheer terror. She had heard so many stories about the Joker, so many horrific stories about his sick, cruel ways of torturing and killing people. She couldn't imagine he would be a pleasant experience in bed, if she even survived it.

"She's new," Joker said, pointing at Trixie with his cane.

"Trixie Hart," said Bill, proudly. "Just started on the game, but already being raved about far and wide by gentlemen of discerning taste, such as yourself, Mr. Joker, sir. C'mon, Trixie, smile for the gentleman," he said, shoving Trixie roughly forward. "He likes smiles."

Trixie was shaking like a leaf, and stared up at the Joker in astonishment and horror. She tried to force a smile, but her terror was too great for her body to react to the commands her brain gave her.

She shrieked suddenly as Bill punched her across the face. "I said smile, you useless whore!" he shouted. "Don't upset the customers!"

He raised his hand to hit her again, but was intercepted by the Joker. "That's enough," Joker whispered, his green eyes bright. "You don't damage purchasable goods, Bill – it's bad for business," he said, relaxing into his easy smile again.

Trixie forced a smile at last, but it hurt because of the blood pouring from her busted lip and she whimpered slightly in pain. The Joker smiled back, approaching her and tilting her face up to his with one hand. "I like her smile," he said, tracing a gloved finger along her lips and wiping the blood away. "Even with the damage."

He put his finger into his mouth, licking Trixie's blood off it and grinning at her. "I want her," he said, turning to Bill.

"A fine choice, an excellent choice, Mr. Joker, sir," said Bill, gesturing to the derelict building across from the bridge. "Enjoy now! Trixie, you behave for the gentleman – he's paying good money for you!" he snapped, glaring at Trixie.

Joker had taken Trixie's arm and was pulling her toward the building, when Valerie suddenly caught her hand. "Whatever he does, just laugh," she whispered. "That's what he likes."

Valerie released her, and Trixie found herself following the Joker into the building. They entered the squalid ground floor room which contained a dim light-bulb hanging from the ceiling, and a dirty mattress on the floor. Joker shut the door while Trixie stood in the middle of the room, still shivering uncontrollably.

He turned to her. "Sit down," he said, gesturing to the mattress.

Trixie obeyed, watching Joker as he removed his hat and overcoat. Since he was undressing, Trixie took that as her signal to follow suit, and pulled her top off.

"What are you doing?" he asked, turning around. He was still smoking his cigarette, and his green eyes studied her curiously.

"I'm…I'm sorry," stammered Trixie. "Is that…not right? Did you want to…to undress me yourself? Here, I'll start over," she said, pulling her top back on hastily. "I'll…I'll wait for you."

He said nothing, taking a seat in front of her, still fully dressed. He puffed on the cigarette, and then reached into his jacket. "Smoke?" he asked, offering her one.

"N…no, thank you," whispered Trixie. "I mean…maybe after."

"After what?" he asked, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

"After…after we do…what you're paying me to do," stammered Trixie.

He said nothing, but stood up again, reaching for his overcoat, which he tossed at her. "Put that on," he said. "Maybe it'll stop your shivering. You look cold."

"Thank…thank you," stammered Trixie, pulling on the coat. "But…I mean…don't you want me to…to take it all off anyway?"

He still didn't respond, sitting down again and smoking. "You like jokes, kid?" he asked at last.

"Jokes?" repeated Trixie, confused. "Uh…sure…I guess."

"Well, stop me if you've heard this one," he said. "A guy walks into a bar, sits down, and orders a drink. The bartender gives him his drink, and a bowl of peanuts. The guy is shocked when the peanuts suddenly start talking, saying things like, 'You are looking smooth tonight, buddy! I bet the ladies really go for you, with a physique like that! Where do you buy your clothes, because they're really stylish!' The guy's understandably confused, but tries to ignore it. He suddenly realizes he's outta cigarettes, and heads over to the cigarette machine. He puts in his money, and to his surprise, the machine starts talking to him too, only this one says things like, 'Woah, who let the gorilla outta the zoo? You look like a monkey, and you smell like one too! Somebody call the fashion police, because this guy's just committed a crime against humanity!' By this time, the guy is beyond confused, and asks the bartender for an explanation. 'Sorry, sir,' says the bartender. 'The peanuts are complimentary, but the cigarette machine is out of order.'"

The Joker instantly began laughing hysterically at this, and Trixie couldn't help but join in. It wasn't even that funny a joke, but the terror of her situation, and the inappropriateness of a joke in it somehow just made her laugh as if it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard.

"You got a nice laugh," said the Joker, smiling at her as he puffed on his cigarette again. "I like that in a dame. I thought yours would probably be good, but I wasn't sure. Took a gamble with you, and it paid off. I usually go with the old reliable ones, like Val, who I know has a great laugh and will literally laugh at anything. But sometimes a change is nice."

"I…don't understand," stammered Trixie. "Don't you want us to…I mean…didn't you come here…looking for a good time?"

"I did," agreed Joker, nodding. "I'm having one right now. Aren't you?"

He reached for his cigarette case again. "Smoke?" he repeated, holding it out to her.

Trixie accepted this time, feeling herself slowly relaxing. She had expected the Joker to be harsh and brutal, rough and cruel with her, treating her like an object or a piece of meat, like so many men did. But he merely lit her cigarette for her, and another one for himself, and then leaned back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling.

"Been doing this kinda work long?" he asked, watching the smoke curl up toward the light.

"Not that long," replied Trixie. "The money's good though. I can't complain."

"I would, if I had to put up with Bill," replied Joker. "That guy's a pig. You'd all be better off with Val in charge – she's a smart lady who knows how to treat valuable commodities."

Trixie forced a laugh. "Nobody thinks we're valuable commodities. We're hookers. There are a million of us in this town, and if we disappeared tomorrow, there'd be plenty more desperate women to take our place."

"That's probably true," agreed Joker, puffing on his cigarette. "Must be hard, living every day when you know you're disposable."

"I guess I've never known any different," replied Trixie, shrugging and exhaling her cigarette. "Just grateful for a roof over my head, and a warm bed at the end of the night."

"Preferably an unoccupied one, I imagine!" chuckled Joker. "I can't imagine many of the guys you service are ones anyone would want a long-term relationship with."

"No, they're mostly pigs," agreed Trixie. "Happy to just use us and leave us with their money. Except you," she added, studying him. "Why is that?"

Joker shrugged. "I had an accident," he said, gesturing to his face. "I don't remember who I was before the accident, but ever since then, I ain't…had the urge. My mind's preoccupied by other things. Crazier things. I just come here for the company, and the laughs. Most people don't think I'm very funny, so I pay women to laugh at my jokes. I guess it's kinda pathetic, in a way. But no more pathetic than paying women to use their bodies."

"I don't think it's pathetic," said Trixie. "I think it's…kinda sweet."

"Well, if anyone asks, I'm here for the sex," said Joker. "I got a reputation to preserve, and it wouldn't be preserved if people thought I was sweet."

He exhaled a cloud of smoke. "If anyone asks, give them a lotta sick details about some crazy, sadistic stuff I enjoy. That's what they'll be expecting, and I hate to disappoint an audience. Or wait, no! Better yet, tell them I enjoy boring, traditional, missionary stuff! That would be quite the joke, the Joker as a tender lover!"

He giggled madly to himself. Trixie smiled, and hissed suddenly as she felt the cut on her lip grow wider at the action, and start bleeding again. "Here," said Joker, handing her his handkerchief. "Keep that pressed against it to stop the bleeding."

"Thanks," murmured Trixie, obeying him. "You're a…nice guy."

Joker grinned at her. "And ain't that a good joke?" he murmured.

Trixie stared back, feeling her heart pounding at a rush of affection for him. "You know…since you've paid for me…if you want…I mean," she stammered. "I could see if…I could help reawaken…your urge…"

She was reaching tentatively between his legs, when her wrist was suddenly seized in his firm grip and shoved away. "No, thanks, toots," he murmured. "All that stuff's more trouble than it's worth, I remember that about my past if nothing else. Leads to a lotta complications, and I'm a simple man with simple pleasures enjoying a simple life. So let's just hear some more jokes instead."

"Okay," said Trixie, leaning back against the wall as she pulled his coat tighter around her. She felt warm and safe as she listened to his jokes and laughter, and laughed along with him. She had never felt warm and safe before.

Time passed, and all too soon, Joker glanced at his watch. "I think our time may be up," he said, standing up. "Don't want Bill overcharging me like the chisler he is."

"He's awful," agreed Trixie, handing him his coat back. "It's not the first time he's hit me, and it won't be the last."

Joker pulled his coat and hat on, and grinned at her. "Maybe it will be, toots," he murmured. "Maybe it will be."

They left the building together, and headed back to the flaming barrel under the bridge. Trixie rejoined her companions, and Joker went with Bill to the other end of the bridge to pay him.

"Not so bad, huh?" asked Valerie, smiling at Trixie.

"No," agreed Trixie, smiling back. "I really like him."

"All the girls do," said Valerie, nodding. "And don't worry, he always comes back this way. Every time he breaks outta the nuthouse. So you'll be seeing him around a lot."

Trixie nodded, burying her hands in her pockets to try to warm them up. She was surprised to feel something inside them, and fished out several bank notes.

"He's also a good tipper," said Valerie, smiling. "Always leaves the ladies wanting more."

Trixie beamed, folding the notes carefully and putting them back in her pocket. All of a sudden, they heard a loud bang coming from behind them. It sounded like a gunshot.

The girls hurried over to see Bill's still warm corpse, lying in a pool of his own blood, with a bullet through his skull and a note attached to the body:

 _See? It_ was _the last time! Thanks for the laughs, toots! Val, you're in charge of this party now, so take care of the girls – I'll be back soon._

 _-J_

But contrary to the note, Joker didn't come back. Not ever again. And as disappointing as this was for business, the prostitutes could only assume he had found himself another girl to laugh at his jokes…


	2. Chapter 2

"It's not funny, puddin'!" shrieked Harley Quinn, storming out of their bedroom.

"How dare you presume to tell me what's not funny?" demanded the Joker, racing after her. "It's a classic gag, Harley!"

"No, the whoopie cushion is a classic gag!" snapped Harley. "The can o'snakes is a classic gag, the joy buzzer is a classic gag, the chattering teeth is a classic gag! The itching powder is _not_ a classic gag, and it's not a joke item I appreciate us using in bed, for obvious reasons! I shouldn't even be having this conversation with you – it's kinda a no-brainer!"

"I just thought it would spice things up," said Joker, shrugging. "Try some new toys, instead of the same old ones. I'm a spontaneous kinda guy who constantly craves new challenges and excitement – so sue me."

"I ain't gonna sue you!" snapped Harley. "I'm just gonna throw some itching powder on you and see how you like it! I guarantee you, you won't be laughing then, and it'll wipe that silly grin right off your stupid face!"

"Don't talk to me like that, you ungrateful brat!" he snapped. "Where would you even be today without me?"

"Not itching, I guarantee it!" snapped Harley. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna get a shower!"

She stormed into the bathroom, turning on the shower tap and letting the water run. She felt the Joker come up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist. "You ever think about those days?" he murmured. "The two of us in Arkham, you a prim and proper shrink, and me a homicidal maniac?"

"It ain't gonna work, Mr. J," muttered Harley. "I'm still mad at you, and making me remember Arkham ain't gonna soften me up."

"You said stuff like that then too," he murmured. "We can't, we shouldn't, it's crazy for the two of us to do this, we'll be caught. And yet here we are, all these years later. Could you have imagined then, the kinda stuff we'd be doing together? Because I sure as hell couldn't. I couldn't imagine any woman would be into the clown stuff. I couldn't imagine that hot little shrink, so prim and proper, could be such a bad, naughty girl…"

"Mr. J!" snapped Harley, rounding on him. "It's hard for me to be mad at you when you talk like that, so stop it right now!"

He grinned. "You wanna see something else that's hard?" he whispered.

Harley sighed. "Aw, the heck with it," she muttered, seizing him around the neck and shoving her mouth into his. He pressed her into the shower, lifting her up against the wall, their mouths never separating and their bodies pressed tight together…

And then a knock came on the door. "I wonder who that could be," said Joker, drawing away. Harley sighed again, this time in disappointment. Joker could be very enthusiastic when he was in the mood, but he could get outta the mood in a second by any kinda distraction. And a potential visitor was a very unwelcome distraction for Harley at this point in time.

She reached for her bathrobe. "I'll go see who it is and tell 'em to get lost," she said, pulling on her robe and heading for the door.

She opened it to see an unfamiliar, middle-aged woman standing there. "Can I help you?" Harley asked.

"Hi, are you…Harley Quinn?" the woman asked, looking at her curiously. "Without the makeup and costume, it's kinda hard to tell."

"Well, I do have a themed robe," said Harley, nodding at her red and black diamond bathrobe. "So yeah, it's me. Who are you?"

"My name's Valerie Stevens," said the woman, holding out her hand. "It's so nice to finally meet you – me and my colleagues are always interested in reading about you in the papers and all."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" asked Harley, surprised and pleased. "Think I'm quite the female role model, huh? I mean, young, attractive doctor and supercriminal – I guess I've shattered quite a few glass ceilings in my time…"

"Not exactly," interrupted Valerie. "We're mostly interested in you because of the Joker. Me and my colleagues follow his career with great interest – we're old friends."

"Oh…yeah?" repeated Harley, her pleasure instantly turning to suspicion. "Mr. J…didn't tell me he had friends. Especially not…female ones."

Valerie laughed. "I don't think we're the type of friends he'd tell his girlfriend about, exactly," she said. "Is he here? It'd be great to see him again."

"He's…in the shower," said Harley. "Where I also was, until you so rudely interrupted us."

Valerie stared at her in surprise. "Oh," she said. "You mean you and he…get naked together?"

"Well…yeah," said Harley, slowly. "He's my boyfriend…"

"You and he have sex?" asked Valerie. "Only…we all kinda assumed…you didn't have any urges either."

"That's…kinda a personal question," said Harley. "But yes, we do have sex, and it's mind-blowing, except for just now when he used the wrong toy, but we were just getting the mood back when you showed up, so why doncha beat it…"

"Val?" came Joker's voice behind her. Harley turned to see him dressed in his purple bathrobe, beaming at the woman. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, coming out to embrace her. "It's been ages! How the hell did you track me down?"

"I'm a smart gal, J-man, you know that," replied Valerie, hugging him in return. "It's so good to see you – it's been too long. The girls and me really miss you. We were disappointed when we read in the papers that you'd found a steady girl. I mean, happy for you, of course, but it was just kinda a surprise. She must be one heck of a catch for you to stay with her long-term," said Valerie, smiling at Harley. "She must just adore your jokes."

"Yeah, she does," said Joker, putting an arm around Harley's shoulder. Harley would normally have been pleased by any display of affection from the Joker, but she didn't like this woman or her friendliness with Joker at all.

"So…how do you know Mr. J?" Harley stammered, forcing a smile.

Valerie smiled back. "Before you came into the picture, honey, we saw quite a lot of this one," she said, patting his back. "He came round to see us every time he busted out of Arkham. We were all really fond of him. Trixie Hart still has that handkerchief you gave her for her busted lip, you remember?"

"Course I remember!" chuckled Joker. "I shot Bill through the head for it! I trust he's not missed."

"Nope," replied Valerie. "Ever since I took over, things have been pretty great. Up until recently, that is. I came to find you not just to catch up, but also because I kinda need your help. We all do."

"Well, anything for my old pals!" said Joker, beaming at her. "Come in, Val, and we'll talk properly. Harley, be a dear and put on some coffee, would you?"

"Mr. J…can I talk to you for a second?" asked Harley, as Joker led Valerie inside. "In private?"

Joker shrugged. "Study's just down the hall, Val – make yourself comfortable," he said. "What is it, Harley?" he asked, as Valerie headed off.

"Mr. J, who the hell is that?" demanded Harley. "She keeps talking about these girls – since when do you know any girls?"

"Before your time, Harley," said Joker. "It's nothing you need to worry about, trust me."

"I don't need to worry about a buncha girls you knew before my time?" demanded Harley.

"No," he replied. "They're just friends I had before I met you. Just a nice group of girls. You have to trust me, Harley," he said, heading off down the hall after Valerie.

"Yeah, right," snapped Harley, turning on the coffee maker. She brooded for a few seconds, then headed into the living room and turned on the computer. She brought up a search engine and typed in the names Valerie Stevens and Trixie Hart. There weren't many results, except for one that listed both of them as being in the police database. Harley brought up the database, which showed a picture of the woman currently in the study with Joker, and another younger, prettier blonde girl called Trixie Hart. Valerie was wanted for a whole list of petty offenses, but there was only one that both she and Trixie were both wanted for. And Harley's face fell in horror when she read the word _prostitution._


	3. Chapter 3

Harley found herself racing down the hall before her brain had fully processed what she had read, and knocking frantically against the study door. "Mr. J!" she cried.

The door opened. "Is that coffee ready, Harley?" asked Joker.

"No, I…I just…really need to talk to you," stammered Harley.

"Harley, I have a guest," snapped Joker. "I'm sure this can wait…"

"But it can't!" cried Harley, catching the door before he could shut it. "The…the woman in there with you…she's a…she's a…" Harley lowered her voice. "Prostitute," she whispered.

Joker just looked at her. "Yeah, I know, Harl," he said. Then he slammed the door in her face.

Harley's stomach plummeted as her worst fears were confirmed. Joker knew the woman and her colleagues before he had met her. The woman had said he came to visit them a lot. There was really only one explanation for why he would do that.

Heartbreak and fury overwhelmed her, but she crouched down by the door, peering through the keyhole to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"I just want to congratulate you again, J, on finding such an attractive, committed girl," Valerie was saying.

"Yeah, she's committed, all right," agreed Joker, sitting back down across from her. "Committed for life now, thanks to me. Certifiably crazy as a loon."

"How did you two meet?" asked Valerie.

"She was my shrink at Arkham," said Joker. "Had a lotta sympathy for my situation. And of course, I am quite the charmer."

"You sure are," agreed Valerie, grinning. "She's a lucky gal. If you had asked some of our girls if they wanted to commit to you long-term, quite a few of 'em would have said yes. But I guess something about this girl made you change your mind…about a lotta things."

"Yeah," agreed Joker, hearing Harley's movements by the door as she shifted to a more comfortable position for eavesdropping. He stood up suddenly. "Scuse me," he said, reaching behind the sofa for a BB gun. He headed toward the door, aimed, and then shot a pellet underneath it. Harley squeaked as the pellet impacted with her foot, causing a massive spike of pain. This was clearly Mr. J's way of telling her to get lost, and she obeyed reluctantly, fuming as she went to go remove the pellet, and plot how she was going to show him her displeasure at the company he used to keep.

"Sorry about that," said Joker, putting down the gun and sitting down again. "Where were we?"

"I was just saying that Harley's made you change your mind about a lotta things," repeated Valerie. "The types of relationships you want to have with women, for instance. And their…physical nature."

Joker shrugged. "Yeah. Harley's a very…hot-blooded young woman. At the beginning, I used sex as a tool to get her on my side. But she's kept constantly demanding it since then, and over the years, I've come to enjoy it. In many ways, she's awakened parts of me that I'd forgotten, or never knew existed. Made me a bit more human, I suppose. But don't tell her that – she's got a big enough ego as it is," he added, smiling.

"She won't hear it from me," said Valerie, smiling back.

"So what is it you need from me?" he asked. "You mentioned something about me helping you?"

"Yeah, that whole mess," sighed Valerie, rubbing her temples. "We're having a problem with one of the local gangs – as you know, our girls have been operating on our turf for a good several years now. Well, this new kingpin moved in down by the river, and he's claiming that the bridge is part of his turf, and we have to pay him protection money if we wanna keep doing our job. I've tried reasoning with him, but he ain't a reasonable guy, and he has no respect for women. Said we wouldn't have to pay him if we just gave him free access to our girls whenever he wanted. I told him our girls get paid for the work they do, no exceptions, and he told me that it was that, the protection money, or his guys would have to make an example of us. The girls are understandably pretty frightened, but I told 'em if anyone can sort out some bullying thug, it's our J," she said, smiling at him.

"It would be a pleasure, Val," said Joker, grinning. "Just give me his name and his address and I'll pay him a little visit. Nothing worse than a little man with a little power – they always seem to think it's more than it really is," he chuckled.

"His name's Luigi Brasca," replied Valerie. "He and his cronies operate in a small warehouse off the docks, Brasca's Imported Shoes."

"An Italian gangster – how original!" chuckled Joker. "I'll handle him, and then I'll stop by the old bridge to see everyone and let you know it's been taken care of. I'll bring Harley – she's already paranoid at finding out you're a prostitute, so it'll be good for her to hear from the girls' own lips that nothing funny went on between us."

"Well, a lotta funny stuff _did_ go on between us," replied Valerie, grinning. "But that's it."

Joker laughed. "I always did like your sense of humor, Val," he said, standing up. "You take care, and I'll see you soon."

"Thanks, J," she said, following him to the door. "You're a good guy."

"That's not what the cops say!" chuckled Joker. "Or the Batman!"

"Well, what do they know?" asked Valerie. "I don't see either of them coming to help us anytime soon."

"Well, Bats is a busy guy – has a lot on his plate," said Joker. "All that brooding really takes up a good chunk of time, I expect."

Valerie smiled at him. "We really have missed your jokes, you know," she said, touching his cheek.

"Well, after I've sorted this out, I'll tell you a few," he said, smiling at her. "For old time's sake."

"I'd like that," she said, smiling back. She kissed his cheek. "Bye, J," she said, heading back out into the streets of Gotham.

Joker shut the front door, and then headed back to his study, whistling. He went over to his desk to begin drawing up a plan for Luigi Brasca's torture and death, when he suddenly heard the door slowly creak shut, and lock. He turned around to see Harley standing in front of it, arms folded across her chest and eyes blazing angry fire. "Mr. J," she hissed. "We need to talk."


	4. Chapter 4

"What is it, Harley?" asked Joker, turning back to his work.

"'What is it, Harley?'" repeated Harley, incredulous. "You invite a hooker into my home, a hooker who, by her own admission, you used to visit constantly before you met me, along with her friends, and you ask me, 'What is it, Harley?'!"

"First of all, it's _my_ home," replied Joker, turning around. "I can have whoever I want in it. Second of all, Val's just an old pal, nothing for you to worry about. I did used to visit her and the other girls a lot, but it was just to tell them jokes. That was it."

Harley stared at him. "You think I'm stupid or what?!" she shrieked. "What kinda man visits a brothel to tell jokes?! I bet that's what every pathetic guy says when his girl catches him hanging around with whores, 'Oh, don't worry, honey, I just talk to 'em!' God, you must think I'm a total idiot to buy that line!"

"It's the truth," retorted Joker. "You can ask any of 'em – I would pay to have them listen to my jokes and laugh. That was more pleasurable for me than any kinda hanky-panky we coulda got up to. And I imagine it was a nice break for the girls too."

"I don't believe you!" snapped Harley. "Anyway, you enjoy hanky-panky…"

"And you of all people know how difficult it was to make me come round to that," interrupted Joker. "You know how rarely I'm in the mood for it – I told Val, sex was just something I used to get you on my side initially."

"Oh, you used me too?" demanded Harley. "You treated me just like all those other floozies?! How come you didn't pay me and then leave me like you did them, huh?!"

"Harley, let me finish!" snapped Joker.

"Is that what you used to say to them?" demanded Harley.

"No, shut up and listen!" shouted Joker. "I did use you initially, you know that, to bust outta Arkham! But through you, I've come to appreciate…the joys of the flesh. You reawakened that desire in me that I never had for anyone before, not for the prostitutes, not for any woman, as long as I've been the Joker. You should be pleased about that, not upset that I hung around with hookers when I didn't have a sex drive!"

"What do you mean, didn't have a sex drive?" demanded Harley. "Not if what happened between us in Arkham is any indication!"

"Didn't you just hear me?" snapped Joker. "You were the first gal I'd ever done that with since I became what I am now! And you should be pleased – it means something about you is pretty special! I never even considered using sex as a means to an end before I met you – something about you gave me that idea! I was attracted to something about you that I'd never seen before in anyone!"

Harley suddenly remembered how Valerie had been surprised that she and the Joker were naked together, and had sex. But a woman like that would say anything, reasoned Harley, especially if she was trying to protect her former lover from Harley's wrath. Mr. J had probably paid her to corroborate his story if anyone ever asked, as well as for a few other things. And anyway, Joker had a sex drive now – it wasn't the kinda thing that just switched on and off, in Harley's experience.

"A likely story!" she snapped. "You'd say anything just to get outta this situation, including making up lies! How could you do it, Mr. J?! How could you pay desperate women to have sex with you?! And worse, how could you hide it from me?! You know those kinda women aren't very clean – you might have an STD! You might have given me an STD! I need to go get a checkup right now, and you're coming with me!"

"Harley, I don't have an STD!" shouted Joker. "I told you, I didn't have sex with those women! I told them jokes, and that was it! Nothing else happened! So unless you're implying that I picked up an STD from you, I ain't getting any kinda checkup!"

"Yes, you are, because I don't know where you've been!" shrieked Harley. She buried her face in her hands. "Oh my God, I never thought you could do something like this! I never thought you could just use women for sex! That calls into question everything I know about you! I always thought you were a loyal, monogamous guy, Mr. J! I always thought you were a one-woman loon who just needed his Harley girl! But now…now all those rumors on the internet seem like they could be plausible!"

"What rumors on the internet?" demanded Joker.

"The ones that say you raped Barbara Gordon!" shrieked Harley. "You know everyone thinks that, right? After you shot her and stripped her and took pictures to drive her dad crazy, you raped her!"

"Harley, of course I didn't…how could you possibly think that?" demanded Joker. "There's no joke in rape! There's a joke in paralyzing someone by shooting them through the spine – just think of all the jokes about spines there are! 'Show a little spine,' 'What are you, spineless?' 'The spine's damaged on this edition,' etc. There's a joke in gratuitous shots of the wound to show her dad – I mean, it's to prove to him that the world is a cruel, random place full of meaningless violence, and that fighting against that with justice and order is completely futile. But you tell me one funny joke about rape. You can't, because there isn't one. So it's not really my bag. And frankly, I'm a little insulted that you and everyone else thinks I would do something that isn't funny, like rape a paralyzed girl. There's no joke in rape, and there's no joke in prostitution, so obviously I don't engage with that sort of thing."

"I wouldn't have thought so either, until now!" sobbed Harley. "But the people on the internet say you have that kinda look!"

"What kinda look?" asked Joker, puzzled.

"A shifty one!" shrieked Harley. "They say you got a rape face!"

"What on earth is a rape face?" demanded Joker.

"A face that looks like it's gonna rape someone!" shouted Harley.

"That's just my face, Harl!" snapped Joker. "It's a happy face! Since when did happy equate to rapey?!"

"It's a rapey face!" shrieked Harley. "You remember that variant comic book cover with you and Batgirl that was banned?! You know why?! Rapey face!"

"It's not a rapey face!" shouted Joker. "It's just my face, and I ain't changing it even if I could, because it's perfect! You used to think it was perfect too!"

"That was before I had to imagine it with other women!" sobbed Harley. "With other women that you forced yourself on, or paid to have dirty, illegal sex with you, like the disgusting sex maniac you are!"

"Oh, _I'm_ the sex maniac?!" demanded Joker. "You look up nymphomaniac in the dictionary and there's a picture of you!"

"There ain't a string of male hookers hidden away in my past!" shrieked Harley. "If I'm a nymphomaniac, you made me into one, because you're the only guy I've ever slept with!"

"And if I'm a sex manic, you made me into one, because you're the only woman the Joker has ever slept with!" shouted Joker. "But fine, you think what you want – I'm sick of arguing with you!" he snapped, turning back to his desk. "I got a lotta work to do, and there's nothing else I can say to convince you of the truth when you're so dead set against it. You wanna think the worst of me, you go ahead. But after I take care of this guy for Val and the girls, I'm taking you with me to meet 'em, and they'll tell you what I'm saying is true."

"You probably paid them to say that!" snapped Harley. "Just like you paid 'em to have sex with you!"

"Like I said, believe what you want," retorted Joker. "But it kinda hurts that you don't trust me, Harley. That you think I'm the type of guy to use hookers or rape women. I thought you of all people knew my character better than that. But you wanna listen to the opinions of the world, and your own crazy jealousy, you go ahead. But I think in your heart you know the truth, if you'd only calm down and listen to it."

"I can't!" snapped Harley. "I can't listen to my heart because…because…it's broken!" she sobbed, unlocking the door and fleeing from the room, sobbing loudly.

Joker sighed. "God, women," he muttered, turning back to his plans. "I always knew they were more trouble than they were worth. Why I let Harley ensnare me back into that particular trap, I'll never know. I really must be crazy."


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm sorry, Johnny," said Poison Ivy to Jonathan Crane, firmly. "I'd really love to help you out, but I'm not going to grow a plant for you just so you can slaughter it."

"But it's so hard to come by in its natural state!" exclaimed Crane. "And its hallucinogenic properties are highly potent – just perfect for my new strain of fear toxin!"

"So because it's useful to you, I should grow and then allow you to murder one of my children, is that what you're saying?" asked Ivy.

"Well…essentially, yes," replied Crane. "But it's not a real child, it's a plant…"

"Which are my children," interrupted Ivy.

"Pamela, please do try to be reasonable," said Crane. "I really need this plant for my research…"

"And I really need to prevent the murder of innocents," said Ivy. "I'm sorry, Johnny, but I'm not helping you, and there's nothing you can say or do to convince me otherwise."

"But I'll pay you whatever you want!" cried Crane. "Just name your price!"

"This isn't about money – it's about principles!" snapped Ivy. "The situation is completely unethical for me, and I'm not going to violate my ethics for any price!"

Crane glared at her. "It's because I'm a man, isn't it?" he demanded.

"What are you talking about?" asked Ivy.

"I'm saying if it was a woman asking you for this favor, like Harley or someone, you'd be happy to help," replied Crane. "But you hate men, and the fact that I'm a man means you won't help me under any circumstances. It's incredibly sexist of you, Pamela."

"Okay, first of all, I wouldn't help Harley murder one of my children either," snapped Ivy. "And second of all, I'm not sexist. Women can't be sexist, because we're the oppressed gender, and sexism is a tool used by oppressors."

"You realize that makes no logical sense, don't you?" asked Crane. "And is, in fact, incredibly hypocritical."

"Don't tell me what makes no logical sense!" snapped Ivy. "The oppressor gender isn't allowed to criticize the oppressed one! You have no idea what it's like to be a woman in the modern world, so you're not allowed to have opinions on women's issues!"

"I'm allowed to have opinions on objective facts, like a flawed argument!" snapped Crane.

"Objective facts are a tool of the oppressor!" snapped Ivy.

"What?" demanded Crane.

"Yeah, I know that one didn't make sense – I just didn't want to lose the argument," muttered Ivy. "But I'm still not helping you. And I have an imminent battle with Batman to prepare for, so if that'll be all, you can go now."

Crane sighed heavily. "Call me if you change your mind," he muttered, storming toward the door.

"Don't worry – I won't!" called back Ivy. She sighed as the door slammed. "If only men were more maternal, they'd understand these things," she said to herself, reaching out a hand for one of her plants, which slithered over to her. She stroked it as it curled up in her lap while Ivy mentally went over her plans for this evening – a cosmetic store downtown was debuting a new line of vegan products, and Ivy intended to be there to firebomb the place while shouting, "Veganism is murder!" It wasn't a battle with Batman per se, but Ivy could only assume he'd show up at some point – he usually did.

A loud knocking suddenly came on her door. "I said no, Johnny!" snapped Ivy, standing up and flinging the door open angrily. She was surprised to see, not Crane standing there, but Harley in floods of tears.

"Oh, Red!" she sobbed, throwing herself into Ivy's arms. "It's all a lie! Everything I know about Mr. J, the whole foundation of our relationship, our mad love, everything! It's all a lie!"

"Oh God, Harley, I really don't have time for this right now," said Ivy, glancing at the clock. "I need to get ready for a really big crime this evening."

Harley stared up at her with big, wide, tearful eyes and a quivering bottom lip, and Ivy sighed. "Come in – you can talk while I change," she muttered. "Walk and talk," she said, gesturing to the bedroom. "What's the clown done now?"

"He used hookers, Red!" sobbed Harley. "I just found out, before he met me, he used to use 'em all the time!"

"Really?" asked Ivy, surprised. "That doesn't sound like J. I mean, he's scum, but he's a different type of scum than the kind you expect to pay women for sex."

"It's true, Red!" cried Harley. "But he told me he just paid 'em to laugh at his jokes, which of course I ain't stupid or naïve enough to believe."

"Yeah, that's kinda a pathetic excuse, even for J," agreed Ivy, leafing through her closet. She paused. "I'm not sure how I feel about that, actually," she said.

"You should feel upset, betrayed, and disgusted," said Harley. "Like I do."

"No, I know how I feel about J using hookers," said Ivy. "I'm just not sure how I feel about hookers in general. I mean, on the one hand, it's women choosing to assert their sexuality over men, so it's quite empowering in that way. On the other hand, they're often driven to it by desperation in a male-dominated world, so that's not empowering at all. On the other hand, they're forging their own careers despite the expectations of society, so that's quite empowering. But on the other, they do treat the female body as a commodity to be bought and sold, so that's not very empowering. It's just kinda hard to decide whether I should be vehemently supportive or vehemently against them, really," she sighed, pulling out her usual green leotard and tights.

"Red, this really isn't about whether we approve of hookers," snapped Harley. "This is about Mr. J concealing this from me, and how it changes my entire perception of him as a man."

"I don't see why," said Ivy, pulling on her tights. "I mean, it's not the most despicable thing he's ever done. And at least he stopped using them when he got together with you – it's not like he's cheated on you in any way. Maybe he was ashamed of what he did, which is why he didn't tell you. Anyway, there's nothing you can do about it now except reconcile it in some way, or dump him. And we've gone through this rigmarole too many times for you to dump him."

"You don't understand, Red!" protested Harley. "I can't just reconcile it! When I look at him now, I don't see my Joker! I thought I knew him like I knew myself – I thought I knew the depths of his heart and soul! But this…my Joker wouldn't have done something like this! It's like he's changed into a whole different person in my eyes! And I'm not sure I can ever really see my Joker again. There will always be that suspicion that there's something else he hasn't told me, some other dark, horrible secret he's concealing from me, waiting to descend and tear down the image of my Joker again. I can't live with that kinda paranoia, with a man I don't really know!"

"So dump him," repeated Ivy, zipping up her leotard. "Let him go back to the hookers. Find a guy who's actually worthy of you – it's what I've been encouraging you to do for years."

"But…but I still love my Joker!" sobbed Harley. "I just want him to come back! I want to forget I ever heard about this hooker thing! Maybe he concealed it from me because he knew it would hurt me, which it has!"

"You could always ask Jervis to invent some kinda memory erasing machine," said Ivy, heading over to her vanity and putting on her makeup. "Then you could be blissfully ignorant again."

"I guess I could do that," admitted Harley. "But that could take years for him to build. What am I supposed to do in the short-term?"

"Try not to think about it," said Ivy, applying her lipstick. "And punish him by withholding sex. That's really all you can do."

"But if I do that, he might start using the hookers again," said Harley. "He's already gonna do them a favor by whacking some guy for them, and he said he'll go see 'em all again afterward. What if he does a little more than see them?"

"So go with him," said Ivy.

"He wants me to," replied Harley, nodding. "He says they'll tell me he never did anything with 'em but tell jokes. And of course they'll support whatever he says – once you've had sex with Mr. J, you'll do just anything for him. He's an incredible kinda guy like that."

"Harley, much as I'd love to stay and chat, this conversation is making me sick," said Ivy, standing up. "And I really have to get to this opening – I'm on a tight schedule."

"Okay, Red," said Harley, tearing up again. "You go, and I'll…see myself out. When I've stopped crying!" she sobbed, bursting into tears.

Ivy sighed heavily. She didn't really want to leave Harley alone in this state, and then an idea struck her. She left Harley crying in the bedroom and picked up her telephone. "Johnny?" she said. "I've changed my mind – I need you to hurry back over here as quickly as you can before I change it again."

She hung up, and then waited for the knock on the door, which came a few minutes later. Ivy opened it, and stepped outside while shoving Crane in. "Your problem – bye!" she said, cheerfully, shutting the door in his face and heading down to her car.

Crane stared at the shut door. "My…problem?" he repeated, looking around. Then he heard the sobbing from Ivy's bedroom and went to investigate.

"Oh, Johnny!" sobbed Harley, throwing herself into his arms. "It's all a lie!"

She broke down again before she could give him the full story, but Crane gradually managed to soothe her with a pot of tea (which Ivy's plants had snapped at him for), after which Harley filled him in. "And I just don't know what to do, Johnny," finished Harley, wiping her nose with her sleeve. "Should I go with Mr. J to meet these women?"

"I would," agreed Crane. "Just to see if they're lying, which you can often tell when you speak to someone face to face."

"You think Mr. J is telling the truth?" asked Harley.

"Oh good Lord, no," said Crane. "But once you've confirmed his lies with your own eyes, it might be easier to accept the truth and move on with your life. You could even form a plan to try and get one of the women to admit the truth – catch them out in the lie somehow. See if their stories hold up to interrogation, or if they crumble after a little questioning. It's what I always did when I had to confront my students about their tardiness, or plagiarizing a paper, or something. I could come with you if you like, show you how it's done."

"Really?" asked Harley, hopefully. "You'd do that for me?"

"Of course I would," he said. "What are friends for if not to accompany their friends to brothels and interrogate prostitutes in order to find out if their boyfriend used to pay them for sexual relations?"

Harley beamed at him. "You're a real pal, Johnny," she said, hugging him and standing up. "I feel a lot better already. Now I'm gonna go home to that lying scumbag and withhold sex, and hope that doesn't drive him back into the arms of whores. I'll let you know when we're going to visit them together. See you soon!" she said, skipping out the door.

Crane stared after her, and sighed. "I know it's selfish of me to say this," he muttered to himself. "But oh God, Joker, please be lying."


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Harley woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon, and a sweet, soothing voice saying, "Harley baby. Wakey, wakey, pumpkin pie."

"Mmm…Mr. J?" asked Harley sleepily, rubbing her eyes and sitting up. She was surprised to see the Joker sitting on their bed with breakfast on a tray. "What's all this?" she asked, warily.

"I just thought I'd spoil my Harley girl this morning after she had such a rough day yesterday, with all her angry fits and crying over some stupid misunderstanding," said Joker, placing the tray onto Harley's lap. "So here's some yummy bacon and eggs, just how you like 'em, and some fresh brewed coffee."

Harley glared up at him. "You think this is gonna make me forgive you for using hookers, don't you? You think I'll just cave and stop withholding sex just because you're being nice to me?"

"Oh, this isn't about sex, pooh," said Joker, smiling. "This is about making my baby feel as special as she is to me. This is about making her realize how much I appreciate my one of a kind dame, and all her sweetness and loyalty over the years. I tell ya, a clown like me really hit the jackpot with you, baby," he said, kissing her nose.

Harley sniffed. "Yeah, I imagine it seems that way when you compare me to a buncha whores. At least I give you sex for free. Or at least, I used to, but I won't be doing that anymore."

"Oh sweets, you really are obsessing," sighed Joker. "Why doncha just enjoy your nice breakfast made for you by your adoring Mr. J? I'm sure you'll feel a lot better with a full stomach, and some coffee," he said, sliding the cup forward on the tray.

"You really think food is gonna make me feel better about my boyfriend sleeping around with prostitutes?" asked Harley. "You really must be crazy, Mr. J."

"Yep, crazy as a loon," agreed Joker, beaming. "But only for you, my scrumptious little cupcake," he said, squeezing her cheeks together. "Now c'mon, eat up. We wanna keep those rosy cheeks nice and chubby, don't we?"

"I don't have chubby cheeks!" snapped Harley, slapping his hand away. "Jesus, Mr. J, you really think calling me fat is gonna make this situation better?!"

"Not fat, pooh," said Joker. "Chubby. It's a cute kinda fat, like what babies have. Like what my Harley baby has," he cooed, squeezing her cheeks again.

Harley slapped him away again, and shoved the tray off her lap. "I don't want any breakfast," she snapped. "Wouldn't wanna get chubbier!"

"At least have some coffee then, pooh," said Joker, picking up the cup and holding it out to her. "C'mon, just a little sip. It'll make you feel lots better, I promise."

Harley glared at him, but grabbed the cup and downed it in one gulp. "There. Now leave me alone."

"Whatever you say, pooh bear," said Joker, smiling and standing up. He left the room, and Harley climbed out of bed, heading over to her closet to get dressed.

"Dumb clown," she muttered. She paused in front of the mirror and squeezed her cheeks together. "Not chubby," she muttered. "Although I guess laying off the cotton candy wouldn't hurt."

On her way to the closet, her head began to throb with a low, dull ache. Then she began to feel dizzy as the room suddenly began spinning in front of her, and she fell to the ground. The last thing she saw before she blacked out was the Joker re-entering the room with a smug, triumphant smile on his face.

When she woke up with a still throbbing skull, she found herself strapped into the front seat of the Joker's car while he drove through the streets of Gotham. "Holy guacamole!" hissed Harley, clutching her head. "What did you do to me?"

"Drugged your coffee," he said, not taking his eyes off the road.

"With what?" she demanded, rubbing her temples.

"Rohypnol," he replied.

"Seriously?!" she demanded. "You insist you're not a rapist, but you have the date rape drug handy?!"

"No, for your information, I had to go get it from a guy I know," replied Joker. " _He_ was probably a rapist, but he charged me an arm and a leg for it, so I killed him by cutting off his arms and legs and letting him bleed out. So it's all good."

"Why did you drug me in the first place?" demanded Harley.

"Because you were being difficult," retorted Joker. "You were all irrational, and I knew reasoning with you wasn't going to work. So when reason fails, force is the next best step. Except in a sexual context – then respecting the woman's choice and leaving her alone is the next best step," he added, hurriedly.

"Where are we going?" asked Harley, glancing out the window. "I don't think I've ever been to this part of Gotham before."

"We're going to see the girls," said Joker. "I'm handling this problem for them this evening, but in the meantime, we're spending the day together, all of us. And you can see that they aren't, nor ever were, any threat to you, or our relationship."

"But…but we can't do this now!" exclaimed Harley. "I promised Johnny I'd tell him when we were going! He was gonna interrogate 'em for me!"

"I think interrogating is probably a euphemism, Harley," said Joker. "Johnny's pretty desperate – I think interrogating isn't the first thing he'll wanna do with women he can pay to have sex with him."

"I don't think Johnny's that type of guy, unlike you!" snapped Harley. "I think he just wants to help me find out the truth, because he's a nice guy! Again, unlike you!"

Joker sighed heavily. "It'll be nice to be around women who appreciate me again," he muttered, turning into an alley by the bridge. "Maybe I'll make one of the hookers my Harley instead."

"Hey, Harley Quinn ain't no hooker!" snapped Harley. "You wanna replace me, fine, but call her something else! I don't want my good name as your loyal and loving henchwench dragged through the mud!"

"Then maybe you'd better start acting like my loyal and loving henchwench!" snapped Joker. He got out of the car and opened up her door. "Now c'mon."

"I ain't going anywhere!" snapped Harley, folding her arms across her chest. "You'll have to drag me outta this car!"

Joker shrugged. "All right," he said, flicking out his knife and cutting off her seat-belt. Then he picked her up around the waist and tossed her over his shoulder, despite Harley's shrieks of protest.

"Mr. J! Put me down! Mr. J!" she shouted, struggling and kicking him. Joker ignored her, whistling as he approached the usual spot under the bridge.

"Hello, ladies!" he called. "Daddy's home!"

A group of women all looked up at him, and beamed. "J!" they shrieked, almost in unison, racing over to him. Joker dumped Harley on the ground with a thud, and she glared at him as the women began shrieking in delight and hugging him, all talking at once.

"Ladies, give him some room to breathe!" called Valerie, emerging from the building and smiling at Joker. "We weren't expecting you until tonight, honey," she said, hugging him fiercely.

"Oh, I'll be back then," he said, smiling. "I'm just here with my Harley girl so she can meet you all. She's got herself into a bit of a mood thinking I used to sleep with all of you, so I'm hoping once she meets you and you tell her the truth, it'll calm her jealous rage. Then I'll leave her here, take care of old Luigi, and be back to pick her up tonight, with good news of his demise!"

"Sounds like a plan," said Valerie. "Why don't you both come on inside and make yourself comfortable? We've spruced up the old house a bit," she said, gesturing at the derelict building. "At least on the inside. It's almost homey now."

"Now this I gotta see!" chuckled Joker. "Coming, Harley?" he asked, as the group of women pulled him inside.

"No!" she snapped, folding her arms across her chest as she sat on the ground.

Joker sighed. "Excuse me, ladies," he said, breaking away from the group and picking up Harley around the waist again. Harley continued to shriek and struggle as they entered the house.

"Harley, please try to be quiet," said Valerie, gently. "You'll wake the baby."

"Baby?" repeated both Joker and Harley.

Valerie smiled, and then opened the door to the ground floor room. It still contained the light-bulb and mattress, but also now a few bare furnishings, and in the corner, a small cradle. A woman sat at the table nursing a sleeping baby, a woman who looked up as Joker entered and gasped in astonishment.

"Joker?" she said.

"Trixie?" said Joker. He beamed. "Oh my God, look at you!" he whispered, putting Harley down and heading over to embrace Trixie warmly. "Who's this?" he asked, smiling at the baby.

"This is my daughter, Ruby," said Trixie, smiling as she stroked the baby's hair gently. "She was just born three months ago."

"Well, congratulations," said Joker. "She's a little beauty already, just like her mother. Harley, you love babies – come see the baby," said Joker, beckoning her over.

Harley glared at him, but she did like babies, so she reluctantly obeyed. And her heart softened a little as she looked down at the sleeping child, pure and peaceful and happy.

The baby yawned suddenly, opening her eyes and beaming at the new faces. "Aw, she's got a beautiful smile like her mother too," said Joker, grinning at the baby. It giggled up at him as he held out his finger to her, wagging it in front of her face.

"Yeah, nice smile," agreed Harley, reluctantly. "Nice green eyes too…" Her heart lurched in horror. "Hang on, nice smile, green eyes…Mr. J…is this…your baby?" she stammered, horrified.

The entire room laughed at this. "That would be pretty impossible, honey, if you know how babies are made," said Trixie, smiling at her. "J and I have never slept together. No, her father…could be a few men, but none of them are J. Ruby was a little accident, but I chose to keep her, and I'm so glad I did. She's the best thing I've ever done, not that I've done much in my life to be proud of. But I am proud of Ruby," she said, kissing the baby.

"She's been a real blessing for the whole house, actually," said Valerie. "We take care of her in shifts when her mother's busy. She brings a lotta joy into our otherwise pretty joyless lives. Maybe not for long though, but I think that's for the best too," she said, smiling at Trixie.

"I'm hoping to save up enough to go back to school," explained Trixie. "So I can study and work my way outta this life and make a better life for my daughter. Let her grow up with some real opportunities, like the kind I never had. But it's hard to save up when you got a baby," she added, with a wry smile. "Just buying diapers alone is so expensive."

"We all try to pitch in," said Valerie. "But you can see why we're extra concerned about our safety with Ruby here."

"Yeah," agreed Joker, nodding. "Well, I don't want any of you worrying anymore. I'm sorting out this greaseball tonight. Got a real killer gag for his death too, but I won't spoil the surprise. I'll come back here and tell you all the joke afterward though, just like old times."

The women all cheered and hugged him again, and a few of them led him into the kitchen for a drink. Harley was about to follow, when Trixie caught her arm. "Harley, would you like to hold the baby?" she asked, holding out Ruby to her.

Harley nodded, taking Ruby gently from her mother. Ruby gurgled up at her, grinning. "It's so nice to finally meet you, Harley," continued Trixie. "We've all read so much about you, and most of us were very jealous. You've got such a nice guy, you know. A real catch."

"Yeah, I guess he is," muttered Harley. "Most of the time. When he ain't being a lying scumbag."

"Trust me, honey, we wouldn't give any guy who slept with us such a genuinely warm reception," said Valerie. "We don't like the men who come here, you know. We think the same about them as you do. We don't get attached to our customers at all – it's just a business transaction, mostly from some very unpleasant characters. I mean, J paid us to listen to his jokes, so I suppose that was a business transaction as well, but…he always seemed to want us to have a good time too. To enjoy and be entertained by the things he said. Believe me, our happiness is not a priority for the men who come here as customers. But it was for J. You know, in our profession people generally don't treat you like a human being, so when one man does, it means more than you can ever express. And that's why we love him, Harley. Not because he was a fantastic lover or anything, although I'm sure he is. But because he treated us, the misfits and the freaks, the people society rejected, as people. As people worthy of being talked to, and listened to, and respected, and entertained. Maybe you can't really understand that, someone amazing like you, an educated doctor and all…"

"No, I…I do," interrupted Harley, gently. "I do. That's what I love about him too. When I felt…alone and lost, he made me feel…like myself. He made me feel happy to be me, and he made me want to live without shame or fear of what I truly am. He made me smile," she said. "Really smile for the first time in my life."

"Me too," said Valerie, nodding.

"And me," said Trixie. "I was terrified when I first met him, but he talked to me and made me laugh and…I had never felt so happy before. So safe and warm and optimistic that everything was going to be all right. And with Ruby here now, I know it will be," she said, as Harley gently handed the baby back. "You really can't put into words how grateful you are to someone for making you feel happy for the first time. For making you feel valued and loved and appreciated, no matter how messed up and horrible you feel about yourself. It really doesn't matter to me how much bad stuff he's done, or how many people he's killed, because he probably saved my life."

"He definitely saved mine," said Valerie, nodding. "I was on some nasty stuff when I first met him, a dangerous cocktail of hardcore drugs that I was completely addicted to. That's how I got into this business, to feed my habit, and most of the guys who bought me were happy to shoot up with me. Thought it added to the pleasure. J was the first guy who didn't. J was the first guy who made me realize that life could be a happy, fun place, and that I didn't need drugs to make it that way. All I needed to do was see the funny side."

"I guess…he kinda saved my life too," admitted Harley. "Or at least changed it for the better…" She sighed heavily. "Aw, criminey," she muttered. "I'm gonna have to apologize to him for overreacting and misjudging him, aren't I?"

"I'm sure he'll forgive you," said Valerie, grinning. "He's pretty crazy about you, you know."

"Yeah, I know," agreed Harley, smiling despite herself. "I know."


	7. Chapter 7

"So Harley, tell us what it's like to be the Joker's girlfriend," said Trixie, as they all gathered around the rickety table in the kitchen. "Must be a pretty exciting life you have, all those crimes and fighting Batman."

"Yeah," agreed Harley, taking the soda Valerie got her from the refrigerator. "To be honest, those aren't the parts of my life I think are the most exciting. Mostly I'm just happy to be spending time with Mr. J – what he's happy doing, I'm happy doing."

"She says that, but she complains a lot," retorted Joker. "Just like a woman."

"Well, sometimes I'd rather we spent time with just the two of us, instead of fighting a nutcase in a bat costume," retorted Harley. "And sometimes I'd prefer it if Mr. J paid more attention to me than to said nutcase in a bat costume."

"Yeah, gotta say, when J first started coming round just to tell us jokes, a bunch of us thought he was probably gay for Batman," said Valerie.

"That's a common misconception," said Joker. "Along with a lotta things you read on the internet about me. Right, Harley?"

"Yeah, Mr. J…ain't gay," said Harley, grinning. "He and the Bat have a weird relationship though. But it's something I've just accepted over the years, rather than question."

"It ain't weird – it's a bromance," said Joker. "Those are perfectly common, if cop buddy films are to be believed. Bats and I are like cop buddies, only he's the bad cop, and I'm the good cop. But despite our opposing personalities and views on life, we're still best friends. Nothing weird about that."

"Well, I guess it's no weirder than you being friends with a buncha hookers," said Harley, shrugging. "Sorry, is it…offensive to call you that?" she asked.

Valerie laughed. "You call us whatever you want, honey – everyone else does," she retorted. "When you live this life, you just gotta accept that sticks and stones may break your bones, but names will never hurt you."

"A lot like being a supercriminal, in a way," said Joker. "You should hear the things people say about me and Harley."

"We do – we get all the papers and magazines whenever they mention you," said Valerie, gesturing to a stack on the table. "We always take what they say with a grain of salt, though. We know what those media jackals are like – always looking for gutter press or their latest scoop, whether or not it's true."

"Like the abuse they talk about towards you," said Trixie, nodding at Harley. "The J I know wouldn't hit a woman."

"Oh…well, he does," said Harley, slowly. "But mostly…it puts us in the mood. It's sorta…consensual abuse, for the most part."

"Oh, we've had our fair share of men into that," said Valerie, nodding. "Charge 'em extra though. Gotta say, never really thought our J would be into that. I guess he can always surprise you," she said, patting him on the back. "Wouldn't be the Joker if he wasn't a little spontaneous and unpredictable."

"Yeah, let's…change the subject now," said Joker, hastily. "Not too keen to talk about what I'm into in the bedroom…"

"I'm kinda interested to hear," said Valerie, grinning. "Tell us about sex with J, Harley."

Harley stared at her. "You…you really want me to?" she stammered.

"Yeah," said Valerie, and everyone nodded.

"No," said Joker, laughing. "No, they really don't."

"It's just…I try to talk with my friends about it, and they always tell me to shut up," said Harley. "Nobody's…nobody's ever been interested when I wanna talk about how fantastic it is, or how much stamina Mr. J has, or how we use toys and costumes…"

"Harley, they really don't wanna hear about it," interrupted Joker, with a nervous chuckle.

"Oh, Harley, I think he's embarrassed!" laughed Valerie. "Is that J blushing?"

"I don't blush!" snapped Joker.

"I think I see a little color," giggled Trixie, and Ruby began echoing her mother's giggle.

"I think they really wanna hear, puddin'," said Harley, grinning at him. "Well, the first thing you gotta know about Mr. J is that he's big. Like really, really big, and I mean huge…"

Harley's description was interrupted by a sudden hail of bullets shattering the windows of the room. The women all screamed, diving to the floor and under the table.

"Thank God for random acts of violence," muttered Joker. "Everyone all right?" he called, looking around.

"I think so," said Valerie. "Trixie, how's Ruby?"

"Fine, just scared," said Trixie, as Ruby began wailing and crying.

"Whores!" shouted an unpleasant voice from outside. "This is your last chance! Pay up, or my boys start firing until we kill every last one of you!"

"Huh. Honestly didn't think Luigi would have the guts to make a move in daylight hours," muttered Valerie.

"I should have taken him out before I came," said Joker.

"No harm done," replied Valerie. "Not yet anyway."

Joker reached into his jacket and pulled out his gun. "Left the big guns in car – hold down the fort here while I go get 'em," he said, giving the gun to her.

"According to Harley, you got a big gun right here," said Valerie, grinning.

Joker made a face at her and began crawling toward the back door. "Puddin', what should I do?" whispered Harley.

"Stay here," he said. "Close to Val. She'll protect you."

"Protect me?" repeated Harley. "I can take care of myself! I'm used to being in dangerous situations with you!"

"Yeah, but not unarmed," retorted Joker. "Just stay here," he repeated, heading for the door again.

"Luigi!" shouted Valerie, kneeling in front of the window. "How about we talk about this?"

"We're done talking, whore!" shouted Luigi. "You come out with my money right now, or I let my boys loose in there! They'll kill you eventually, but not before having a little fun with you first!"

"Hey, the girls aren't responsible for my refusal to pay you!" snapped Valerie. "You do what you wanna with me, but they're innocent!"

Luigi laughed coldly. "They're whores!" he shouted. "You might not realize it, but nobody cares if any of you live or die! Nobody cares about anything but what you've got between your legs, and how much you charge for it! And if you ain't paying me for the use of my property, I ain't paying you for the use of yours!"

"Like I said, Luigi, you do what you want with me!" snapped Valerie. "But you let the girls go! One of 'em's got a baby – she's done nothing wrong!"

"Better the baby dies than find out what its mother is someday," retorted Luigi. "What kid wants to grow up with a whore for a mother?"

Harley saw Trixie tear up as she kept trying to shush and calm Ruby, who continued to wail loudly. Anger suddenly ignited in Harley, and she crawled over to Valerie. "Gimme the gun," she whispered. "I can hit him from here."

"The moment you stick your head above the window, they're gonna shoot you," retorted Valerie. "I'm not letting you get yourself killed – J would never forgive me."

"I'll be quick," said Harley. "I'm a good, fast shot – they'll never see it coming."

"Harley, he's probably got a group of men with him," snapped Valerie. "One of them is going to see you and fire. I don't wanna gamble your life against his skills."

"And I don't wanna listen to any more disgusting filth come outta his mouth," snapped Harley.

"I told you, words don't hurt," retorted Valerie. "Just let him talk so we can buy J time. He's trying to get us mad enough to do something stupid. Don't fall into his trap."

"You wanna know about a rumor I heard, whore?" shouted Luigi. "I heard that the Joker used to visit this dump before he took up with his clown bitch. God only knows what he saw in your filthy buncha sluts – maybe you were the only ones willing to do whatever sick crap he enjoys in the sack. Or maybe you were the only whores who would dress up as Batman for him!" he laughed.

This incensed Harley beyond reason, and she grabbed the gun from Valerie before she could stop her. "Mr. J ain't gay for Batman!" she shrieked, standing up and firing out the window.

"Harley, no!" shouted Valerie, leaping up to shove her back down. The men started firing again, but Valerie had managed to push Harley to safety before they could hit her. She wasn't so lucky, gasping in pain as a bullet sliced into her shoulder.

"Oh my God!" shrieked Harley, as she saw blood pouring from the wound. "Oh my God, Val, I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine – not the first time I've been shot," muttered Valerie. "Are you ok?" she asked.

Harley nodded. "Good," said Valerie, forcing a smile. "J woulda killed me."

"Well, the clown's slut in there with you, is she?" laughed Luigi. "I guess you can compare notes! Trying to get some advice on how to be Joker's whore from the people who know best, Harley? Why didn't the Joker come with you, for old time's sake?"

"He did, Luigi!" chuckled a voice. "And you know what advice I have to give? It ain't about size – it's about how you use it! Of course, a real man has both size and skill, as you can see from my gun!"

Harley heard the men screaming and panicking, and a second later heard a loud explosion. She peered over the window ledge to see Joker holding a smoking rocket launcher, smiling at the section of ground and men he had obliterated.

"This wasn't the way I wanted this to go down, you know," Joker sighed, aiming at the remaining men fleeing the scene. "I had a great joke, all planned, about Italian plumbers. And you made me ruin it, Luigi. Well, this is for ruining my joke," he said, pulling the trigger on the rocket launcher. "Mamma mia, here I go again."

The second explosion finished the job. "Everyone ok?" shouted Joker, putting down the rocket launcher.

"No – Val's been shot!" called Harley.

"How did that happen?" demanded Joker, heading back over to the building.

"My fault," said Harley. "I didn't listen to her and kinda…tried to shoot Luigi, and she saved me from getting shot myself."

"Jesus, Val, I thought you were my friend," said Joker, entering the room and hurrying over to her. "Why didn't you let him ice the disobedient little brat?"

"Oh, you talk big, J-man, but you woulda missed her," said Valerie, hissing as Joker examined the wound. "It's fine. Just a scratch."

"No, it's pretty deep," said Joker. "We'll need to cut the bullet out before it gets infected. Harley, go get my knife set from the trunk."

"Maybe I should do it, puddin'," said Harley. "I went to medical school, after all…"

"And I've removed a hundred bullet wounds in my time," retorted Joker. "Anyway, I don't trust you not to kill Val on purpose outta jealousy, with your ridiculous suspicions."

"I ain't jealous no more, puddin'," said Harley. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you…"

"Not the time for an apology, Harl," snapped Joker. "Get the knives!"

Harley obeyed, racing out to the car and hurrying back. "Don't suppose you've got any anesthetic in there," said Valerie, as Joker took the knife set from her and opened it up.

"Sorry," said Joker. "Usually lessening pain isn't top of my priority list."

"That's all right," muttered Valerie. "Probably swallowed enough painkillers over the years that some of them are still in my system."

"Just try to focus on something else," said Joker, picking up a scalpel. "Girls, give her some kinda distraction."

"So Harley," said Valerie, smiling. "Sex with J, you were saying?"

"Not that kinda distraction," muttered Joker.

"C'mon, it'll make me feel better," said Valerie, grinning at him.

Joker growled. "Fine," he snapped. "But only because you've been shot. Go ahead, Harley."

"Well, the second thing you gotta understand about Mr. J is that he's a bad, naughty boy," said Harley, smiling at him. "Who likes to both give and receive spankings."

Joker sighed heavily. "Oh God, why couldn't it have been me who got shot?" he muttered, cutting into the wound.


	8. Chapter 8

"How's she doing?" whispered Trixie, holding a sleeping Ruby in her arms as she came to join Harley, who was watching over Valerie while she rested. Joker had left them all together while he went to check out Luigi's hideout, and if there was anything worth stealing from it.

"She's doing fine," said Harley. "Gonna be right as rain soon – it'll take a lot more than that to kill her."

"Good," whispered Trixie. "Without her, I don't know what any of us would do. She's been like a mother to us for so long. I don't think I'd be a very good mother without her to guide me."

Harley saw tears in Trixie's eyes again as she kissed her sleeping baby. "You…shouldn't let what that creep said bother you," Harley said, gently. "Your baby ain't gonna be ashamed of you."

"How do you know?" asked Trixie. "Wouldn't you be, if you found out your mother was a whore?"

Harley shrugged. "I dunno. It would depend how I was raised, I guess. If I was raised to think that other people's opinions mattered, and that labels mattered, and that what a person did for a living was more important than what was inside a person's heart, then yeah, I would probably be ashamed that my mother was a whore. On the other hand, if my mother had always loved me unconditionally, and taught me that people are a lot more complex than the things people call 'em, and that sometimes they make bad choices for good reasons, and that it's ok to make mistakes, then no, I don't think I would care. I guess it really depends on the kinda parent you wanna be."

"But I can't even tell her who her father is," she whispered. "I'll have to tell her someday that it was some guy who paid for me, and that I didn't even know his real name, or how to contact him to tell him he had a daughter. She might hate me for that."

"Or she might understand," said Harley. "And she might be grateful that you decided to keep her under those circumstances. Even an outsider like me can see how difficult this situation could be – your own daughter won't be any harsher toward you than an outsider."

"I just don't want her to be ashamed of herself," murmured Trixie. "It's not really about me anymore, and it wasn't from the first time I held her in my arms. I don't want her to be bullied or picked on or teased for being the daughter of someone like me. I don't want her to have to feel bad about herself for my mistakes. I'd do anything rather than hurt her, but it's almost impossible to get outta this rut without money. But I will, baby. I promise you, I will," she whispered, kissing her daughter again. "You deserve so much better. And you deserve a much better mother than me."

"Hey, don't say that," said Harley, firmly. "You're a great mother. As long as you're doing the best you can for your kid, that's what's important. No kid will ever be ashamed of a mother who loves them unconditionally. And no kid will ever hate themselves, no matter what anyone else says about them, if they have unconditional love. Trust me – people say a lotta nasty stuff about me and Mr. J," said Harley, grinning. "But it's easy to ignore 'em when you got somebody by your side who adores you and thinks you're the greatest. And you got plenty of people who think that," she said, gesturing around. "Plus the most important one, of course," she said, nodding at Ruby.

The baby stirred suddenly, opening her wide, green eyes and beaming again. Trixie smiled too even as tears slid down her cheeks. "It is a miracle, you know," she whispered. "I just look at her, and no matter how bad I'm feeling, she always makes me smile. I just can't help it."

"Like Mr. J," sighed Harley. "It's scary to love someone that much, I know. But scary in a good way. The kind of love that makes you wanna do your best for that person, and make them happy no matter the cost to yourself. Kinda crazy, when you think about it. But then, mad love is always the best kinda love in my experience."

Ruby began making hungry noises, and Trixie began to nurse her while shushing her. "Don't wake up Val, baby," she whispered.

"Too late," muttered Valerie, hissing as she sat up. "I've been awake for a few minutes, but didn't wanna interrupt Harley. You should listen to her, Trix – she's a good shrink."

"How you feeling?" asked Harley, as one of the women brought Valerie over a drink.

"As well as can be expected after you've been shot," replied Valerie. She glanced at the wound in her shoulder, which had been sewn up. "Your boyfriend did a good job though – shouldn't leave much of a scar," she said. "Another one of his many talents, including all those ones you listed in bed."

"Yeah, he's gonna kill me when we get home," replied Harley, grinning. "He doesn't like seriously discussing anything, especially not sex. He's happy to make a thousand sexual innuendos as jokes, but he likes keeping the details of our private time just between us. It's kinda cute."

"Oh, he knows we're all friends here," said Valerie. "And he knows we know how to keep secrets. Still, I've had a lotta experience with men, and I never met a guy who could go for that long. You're really lucky, Harley."

"I know," sighed Harley. "And it's so great to finally hear that from other people. Most of my friends think I'm crazy to wanna be with him. But then, they're crazy themselves, so it's hard to take them seriously."

She snapped her fingers suddenly. "Hey, speaking of that, I got a really good male friend who hasn't ever been with a woman. Now that I've met you guys, I'd love to trust you with giving him his first time, if you'd let me pay for it."

"Sure," said Valerie, grinning. "Anyone we'd have heard of?"

"Well, he calls himself the Scarecrow," said Harley. "But his real name's Jonathan Crane, and he's such a sweetie."

"Ladies, find the Scarecrow in the papers," said Valerie, gesturing at the tables. One of the women hurried over with a picture, and Valerie whistled. "Wow, he's cute."

"Great, if I can borrow somebody's phone, I'll call him," said Harley. Trixie handed her hers, and Harley punched in a number.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Johnny," said Harley, beaming. "I'm just calling to say that I'm here with the hookers now, and you don't need to worry about interrogating 'em. We all talked, and I'm really sure Mr. J never used 'em for sex, and we're all friends now. Anyway, they're really, really nice women, so if you wanna come down, I can give you the address and you can find one to have sex with."

There was silence on the other end. "And…what makes you think I would like to…have sex with a prostitute?" stammered Crane.

"Well, I just thought you'd like to finally be with a woman," said Harley, shrugging. "And they'll be really gentle with you your first time – they're really sweet. Say hi to Val, she's in charge," said Harley, handing the phone to her.

"Hi, sweetie," said Valerie. "Just seen your picture in the paper. I really like tall, skinny guys – I'm sure I can do something to make you feel really special if you wanna come down."

"N…no…no, thank you," stammered Crane. "It's…it's…not you…or your…profession, I just...have feelings for someone else and…it wouldn't be fair to her."

"Aw, that's sweet," said Valerie. "Does she know you got feelings for her?"

"Um…I'm not sure…if that would be appropriate," stammered Crane. "She's…um…attached."

"Oh. So you're gonna pine over this girl you can never have instead of finding a real woman," said Valerie, nodding. "That seems sensible."

"It's…not…particularly, but…I can't help whom I love," retorted Crane.

"I bet I could help whom you love, sweetie pie," purred Valerie. "If you just gimme a chance."

"No…thank you…I'm…I'm…I'm going to go now," stammered Crane. "This is making me very uncomfortable…not because you're a…a…prostitute," he added, hastily. "Just because…um…you know…I have…things to do."

"Ok. Lemme know if you change your mind – Harley knows where to find us," said Valerie. The phone clicked off, and Valerie shrugged, handing it back to Trixie. "He said no thanks."

"Well, that's a shame," said Harley. "I was really hoping to help Johnny, and to get another customer to help Trixie pay for school."

"It's fine, Harley," said Trixie, smiling. "There are other guys out there."

The door opened, and the Joker strode in. "Hey, J, find anything good?" asked Valerie.

"Nah, not much," said Joker, shrugging. "Just a buncha shoes. How you feeling?"

"Better than that time I overdosed on meth," retorted Valerie. "So that's something."

"Oh yeah, I remember that night," sighed Joker. "You kept hallucinating killer clowns in your room."

"I think I was just seeing you, honey," retorted Valerie.

"You gonna be ok if we head home?" asked Joker. "It's getting kinda late, and since I took care of Luigi, I'm gonna try to get out and fight the Bat tonight instead. Gotta get my exercise somehow."

"Sure, you go ahead," said Valerie. "I think we got everything under control here now, thanks to you."

"Hey, don't thank me," said Joker, shrugging. "After all the times you were such a great audience for me, I owed you at least one."

"Well, if I can fake orgasms, I can fake laughter," replied Valerie, smiling.

Joker stared at her. "You…you faked it?" he stammered. "But I thought…what we had was real."

Valerie grinned at him. "I only faked it once or twice, honey, don't worry," she said. "Not every man can do it every time."

"Though that's not what Harley says," spoke up Trixie with a grin.

"Yeah, she's gonna get such a beating when she gets home," muttered Joker, glaring at her.

"I love it when you talk dirty, puddin'," purred Harley.

Joker knelt down by Valerie's bed. "I'll be back to check on you in a couple days," he said. "We shouldn't leave it so long for our next reunion."

"Well, come by whenever you want, J-man," replied Valerie. "We're always open. Though if I were you, I'd spend as much time with your girl as possible," she said, nodding at Harley. "She's one in a million."

"Don't I know it," said Joker, hugging Valerie. He took Harley's arm and pulled her toward the door. "One in a million pain in the ass," he muttered.

Harley stuck her tongue out at him as they headed toward the car. "Oh, hang on, almost forgot," said Joker, turning back. "Trixie, can you come to the car with us? I picked up something for Ruby while I was out."

"Joker, you didn't have to do that," said Trixie, following them with Ruby in her arms.

"I wanted to," he replied. "She's a cute kid. Not all kids are cute – most of them are ugly, shrieking, crying, smelly nuisances. So the ones that are cute should be rewarded."

He popped open the trunk of the car to reveal that it was full of money, bags and bags overflowing with cash. "Like I said, Luigi didn't have much," Joker said, shrugging. "But what he did have should help Ruby get ahead in life. That'll pay for you to go back to school and then some, doncha think?"

Trixie stared from the money to him. "J, I can't…I can't accept this," she whispered. "It's too much…"

"It's only money," said Joker, shrugging again as he unloaded it. "I got a dozen more stacks of this back at my place. I may be a selfish guy, but I can spare a little to help the less fortunate. Plus if there is a God, this good deed might wipe out one of my real bad ones, like that time I replaced the holy water in Gotham Cathedral with hydrochloric acid, or that time I re-enacted all the major martyrdoms of the saints using the priests, or that time…"

He was cut off as Trixie threw herself into his arms, hugging him fiercely. "Thank you," she whispered, tears flowing down her cheeks. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

She kissed his cheek. "You really are a nice guy," she whispered, beaming.

"Nah, I ain't," he said, shaking his head. "Just random and unpredictable. And hurting people is always hilarious, but occasionally you wanna shake things up by helping 'em."

He ruffled Ruby's hair. "You look after this one, now," he said. "I'll see you all soon. I'll bring Harley, and you can discuss school stuff with her. She's a nerd who stayed in school too."

"I can't wait," said Trixie, smiling. "Bye, J. Bye, Harley."

"Bye, Trixie," said Harley, hugging her. "Bye, Ruby! We'll see all you ladies soon!"

Trixie helped Ruby wave at the car until it disappeared from sight. "That was a nice thing you did, puddin'," said Harley, turning to him.

"Well, I ain't gonna make a habit of it, like I said," retorted Joker. "Think of the damage it'll do to my reputation if people found out the Joker did nice things occasionally. But the girls know how to keep secrets, so I don't think I have to worry about this good deed getting out."

"They are nice girls," agreed Harley, nodding.

"Told you," he retorted. "And don't you feel silly for all your angry fits and crying now?"

"Yeah," admitted Harley. She grinned at him. "You wanna let me make it up to you when we get back home?" she asked, sliding her hand onto his leg.

"Oh no, not after what you pulled," he snapped. "The girls didn't need to hear all about our private stuff."

"Aw, they enjoyed it, puddin'," she said. "And it's nothing they haven't experienced before."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure some of it was," replied Joker. "The whoopie cushion and all…"

"They thought it was funny!" protested Harley. "You love making people laugh, Mr. J!"

"Yeah, laugh with me, not at me!" snapped Joker. "And I always thought I could tell genuine laughter from fake, but Val's kinda called that into question. I can't believe she faked laughter sometimes!"

Joker glanced at Harley. "You don't fake laughter, do you?"

"Nope," replied Harley, hastily. "Never done that. Nah uh. No way."

"You have!" exclaimed Joker. "When? When did you think something I did wasn't funny, but you laughed anyway?"

"I dunno, puddin' – I don't remember specific instances," replied Harley.

"There's been more than one?!" shouted Joker, suddenly furious.

"Puddin', it's not a big deal," said Harley, shrugging. "Not everyone can be funny all the time…"

"I'm the Joker!" roared Joker. "I _am_ funny all the time!"

"Of course you are, puddin'," said Harley, soothingly. "And when you make me laugh, I really laugh…"

"Shut up, Harley!" snapped Joker. "Ungrateful dames," he muttered. "No sense of humor, the lot of you. Couldn't tell a funny joke if it bit you in the face. It's not me who's not funny – you just don't appreciate good comedy."

"Yeah, that must be it," agreed Harley. "Me and Val and every other woman in the world are all humorless, and you, the Joker, are always funny."

"Damn straight I am," agreed Joker. "Won't have my ability to make people laugh called into question. A Joker gag is always 100% gut-bustingly hysterical, every time."

"Whatever you say, puddin'," sighed Harley.

"It's not me, it's you," continued Joker. "I ain't thinking of myself as less of a comedian just because of the opinion of a few stupid women. Bitches be crazy, everyone knows that."

Harley sighed again, smiling to herself as she cuddled against him. "You have no idea, puddin'," she said.

 **The End**


End file.
